


Out of the Shadows

by AceLucky



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, F/M, Friendship, Gunshots, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Panic Attacks, Protection, Romance, Walkers (Walking Dead)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:41:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8403841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceLucky/pseuds/AceLucky
Summary: Abraham has a panic attack and Rosita tries to comfort him and get them both out of a dangerous situation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this months ago and forgot about it but after last Mondays episode I felt I should finally finish and post it! Very short I know...

He stopped to breathe, or rather to remember what it felt like to breathe. What it felt like to just stop and listen to the beating of his uncertain heart. He looked out across the landscape and wondered what it would be like in a hundred years or more, would it be the hell that the current world predicted? Yet the trees were still beautiful and stood tall, birds and animals thrived. The forest was still, unaffected, better off without human interference. 

Abraham couldn’t hear his heart, he found he wasn’t breathing, couldn’t breathe. His chest felt tight and constricted. He tried to inhale through his mouth but to no avail, then through his nose but faltered. He fell to his knees finding it hard to stand, as he begun to hyperventilate he clutched at his chest.   
It had been so long since he’d felt this way, dizzy and out of control, he was convinced this was the end. But somehow his mind broke through, he knew he had to trust his body, he was safe, it was just a panic attack and it would pass. He nearly had to laugh at the absurdity of it, there were walkers everywhere, though perhaps not as terrifying as man, but now his body was trying to kill him.

“Hey,” her voice was soft, he welcomed it.

“Rosita,” he greeted her without looking up from the ground. The bark was damp under him, ants moved in a line carrying another dead insect.

Rosita crouched down next to him, “You okay?” She placed a hand on his shoulder, her gloves damp with sweat, “Abraham, we gotta go,” she tried to lift him in vein.

“I can’t,” he panted, each breath was torture. 

Everything was coming back to him, his family, the beginning, all the blood, the frustration, the way he’d spoken to others. His anger was so hard to control, it was destroying others, he was ruining what was left of Rosita’s pathetic excuse for a life. He’d believed in Eugene for so long, believed there had been hope and it had gone, in the blink of an eyelid, it had all crumbled away.

“Leave me,” he ordered.

Rosita gave a half laugh, “You’re joking right?” She stood up, hand on her hip, “Abe we don’t have time for this.”

He shook his head, spluttered, “Leave me,” he collapsed onto the floor and curled up on his side.

Rosita dove down next to him, her voice full of urgency, “Abe this isn’t funny, please come on,” she shook him.

It was only then she realised what was happening, despite their closeness they didn’t really talk about life before. She knew he’d been in the military, this must have been some form of PTSD, a serious panic attack affecting his ability to breathe, move, think straight.

“Shit,” she murmured, looking around for anything that would help but found nothing, “Come on Abe, breathe with me.”

She took his head in her hands, looked into his eyes that were so awake with life, no sign they were yet ready for the warmth of death. 

“Breathe with me,” she repeated, this time inhaling slowly through her nose and out through her mouth. 

She watched him carefully as he nodded and tried to follow her movements. He was struggling, that much was clear but at least he was trying and hope was all they had. 

“Can’t give up now,” Rosita said as she pulled Abraham a little closer to her so their noses were touching. “Keep breathing with me.”

Rosita was acutely aware of the groaning of the walkers growing ever closer, she closed her eyes for just a second, hoping the closeness would snap Abraham from this moment of torture.

She listened to his breathing, it was slowly steadily and though his arms were still trembling in her own he seemed calmer.

She leant in and kissed him, this was a first out in the open. She knew what their relationship was, or at least what it was supposed to be, no strings, just comfort in the lonely nights. Somehow in the middle of this that felt so wrong, she needed to comfort him and let him know where she stood and that was by his side no matter what.

Abraham didn’t break away or move, he slowly kissed her back and realised quickly that it was helping control his breathing. Rosita could hear the scraping of shoes against tarmac, the dragging of body parts, this couldn’t be it could it? What a bittersweet way to die, to have come all this way and give it all up so easily. 

There was an almighty bang that made them both jump and for a moment Rosita couldn’t see, couldn’t hear… She became aware of the array of blood and guts that had just cascaded down on both of them. 

Through the fog she saw him, Eugene, shot gun in hand. He was trembling, “Come on you two, we gotta go!” He shouted and then retreated.

Rosita breathed a sigh of relief, “Come on Abe if he can do it so can you,” she said with a small smile on her face.

Abraham nodded, “Okay, I know this ain’t right, me being like this an’ all.”

Rosita helped pull him to his feet, “We’ll get through this,” Rosita promised. 

Abraham had no doubt that she was up to the task.


End file.
